A Stone Thrown in a Lake
by Roselyne
Summary: In order to save Legolas, Aragorn must solve the mysery behind his childhood blackouts. But not only does he find a way to recover these events, but also a way to change them...


_**Disclaimer**: None of Tolkien's characters are mine :,(... sad, saaaaad sniffle, but I happily borrow them for this fic _

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**A STONE THROWN IN A LAKE  
_"Change one thing... changes everything"_**

**Prolog - A way to save him**

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Aragorn closed the heavy door behind him. It slammed with a deafening sound so similar to a thunder blast, into the Rivendell night. The human bit his lips, cursing both his broken ankle, and his lack of discretion. The elves were probably on his track by now, and with their ultra developed hearing, it wouldn't take a long time before they found the place where he had found shelter. Already he could hear footsteps approaching Isildur's crypt. He didn't lose time and pushed a heavy oak bench against the door, to block it and gain little time. He felt an excrutiating pain in his back, and lost foot, the world graying before his eyes. He collapsed on the ground, coughing and spitting.

He saw red spots on the floor before his face.

_Brillant! I really did perforate one of my lung in my fall from the balcony. Really brilliant! I needed this!_ From the whistling sound of his breathing, he knew that his lungs were slowly filling with blood. The moment the elves would find him, he'd be already dead. But he didn't matter to him anymore...

How great it would be to lie down there, just a moment. These ancient and cold stones on the floor seemed soft and confortable under his cheek. How pleasant it would be to stop for an instant and to close his eyes... Ery knew how much he needed rest after all the latest events...

A horn sound blasted in his mind. No, he couldn't give up yet! He had to try one last thing before... He rose painfully and slowly, avoiding to put his weight on his right ankle. When he was again upright, leaning on the elven statue holding the shards of Narsil, he felt a dizziness and vomitted blood.

_Time is running short... Hurry, or I won't have the possibility...!_

He crawled painfully until he reached the statue of a woman holding a child, close to a fresco representing Isildur as he sliced Sauron's finger. Aragorn moved a trembling hand and searched the narrow space between the statue and the wall. For a moment of total panic, his fingers found nothing. He forced himself to some calm, and tried again his blind research. Finally, after some horribly long seconds, his feverish fingers met a metallic and cold object. He withdrew his hand and observed his spoil.

It was a delicately carved medallion representing a green leave, interlaced with a fine ivory wire, and held by a silvery chain. Aragorn looked for a long moment this medallion, his sight blurred for some moments as he gently passed his bloody fingers on its delicate surface, feeling the least variation of texture in spite of his callosities. Then the emergency of the situation came back to his mind, and he crawled into a recess, the furthest away from the entrance door. Each movement was tearing off a moaning of pain from him, and he could feel like something was ripped inside of him.

But he was smiling. All this, his state, his injuries, had no importance at all.

When he reached his destination, he took ou of his dark tunic a parchmen mottled with carmine red. Twice his hand dropped the feather he intended to use for writing. He realized he didn't have any ink, but opted for his own blood quickly. Where he was going, he wouldn't need it anyway...

He took a deep breath - trying to suppress the tearing sensation in his chest - and started to write feverishly; slowly first, then more quickly as he gained in insurance.

_"If anyone finds this, it means that it didn't work, and I'm already dead.  
But if I can somehow manage to go back to the beginning of all of this, I might perhaps be able to save Legolas..."  
_

Aragorn threw the parchment on the ground, tightened the green leave medallion into his hands and pressed his lips on it, whispering a prayer to the valars. He felt the world around him pitching and swirling. And lying on the floor of Isildur's crypt, Aragorn laid in a widening pool on his own blood...

And smiled...

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**[To Be Continued]**

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. Hello ! :)  
Yep, I'm still alive (much to many's annoyance :ppp )_

_I'm sorry for the delay in some of my fics (e.g.: The fellowship of the elves). I swear I'm working on the translation into english... But the two movies I was working in these past weeks ("The Silence of the Rings" and "Reincarnation") too waaaaay too much of my time ;_

_The other reason of my silence (despite Laxgirl's "touch of sight' parody :p) was due to the french version of "fellowship of the elves": I have some troubles with the chapter 21 ;) )._

_By the way, the title of this fic, is it correct (in englihs)? Does it make sense? :)_

_Well! 5:59 am here and I have to prepare my exams too... So I won't be long this time. A drawing of you choice for whoever mention the two magical words in the reviews ;-)_

_Big Kiss and a Hug :))))))))))))_

_::Roselyne ::_


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